BLUE [BXB]

TWENTY FIVE

   Dinner was nowhere near as bad as Ethan was expecting. Sure, it was tense, and Ethan constantly felt like he was treading on thin ice, at times even afraid to breathe too loudly so as not to rile up the beast. But Roger was surprisingly civil.

   It wasn't like he started spewing rainbows and giggling like a schoolgirl, but he actually attempted to make small talk with Ethan. Still, when it was over, the boy couldn't help but feel as though a weight was alleviated from his chest. 

   "Alas, he has survived!" Vincent exaggerated, falling dramatically back onto his bed. Ethan laughed, dropping next to him.

   "Yeah, it was okay," Ethan conceded, running a hand through his black locks. "Thanks for dinner. And for letting me meet your dad."

   Vincent turned on his side so his baby blues were staring right at Ethan's emerald greens. He leaned in close, allowing their lips to connect. "Thanks for winning him over."

   Ethan's eyes went wide. "Winning him over? Dude, he looked like he was holding back from killing me!"

   Vincent rolled his eyes. "And you say I'm dramatic?" Ethan scoffed, shoving him playfully. "He was trying, Ethan. You gotta give him that. Besides, he'll come around eventually. When has anyone ever been able to resist you?"

   Ethan smirked. "You're being nice, for a change."

   Vincent gasped. "I'm always nice, idiot!"

   "Whatever you say, meanie." Vincent scowled, narrowing his eyes at Ethan who laughed in response. "I think I should head home."

   Vincent pouted. "Do you have to?"

   "It's getting late. Besides, I have football practice and I need to be at school first thing tomorrow morning."

   The other boy's eyes lit up excitedly as an idea dawned on him. "Stay the night!"

   "What? I know you said your dad was warming up to me, but don't you think this is pushing it?"

   "Don't worry about that. Just text your parents and I'll talk to Dad."

   "You sure that's gonna go well?" Ethan questioned disbelievingly, finding it hard to believe Roger would allow them to sleep in the same bed after he'd caught them in the kitchen. 

   Vincent dismissed him with a wave of his hand, already jogging down the stairs. Roger looked up from the television when he heard footsteps in the living room, smiling kindly when he saw his son. 

   "You boys okay up there?" he questioned seriously. 

   "We're fine, Dad," Vincent shrugged, plopping himself down on the couch next to his father. "About that..."

   Roger raised an eyebrow, eyeing Vincent skeptically as he waited for him to continue. He had a feeling he wouldn't like where this was going. "Well? Go on."

   "Can Ethan stay the night?"

   Roger furrowed his brows in distaste, snarling at the thought. "Absolutely not."

   "But Dad! Please! It's late, and I don't want him driving back in the dark. I promise we won't do anything," he pleaded desperately. 

   Roger stood his ground. "No."

   Vincent slumped, looking at his dad with the saddest, widest eyes and adorably pouted lips. "...Guess I'll just kick him out, then," he muttered dejectedly, making a show of slowly getting up from the couch.

   Roger could feel something tug at his heart strings, his resolve slowly shattering. "You're unbearable, you know that?" he called out to Vincent's retreating figure. "Fine. But keep the door open all night."

   Vincent whipped around so fast, smiling giddily all of a sudden. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he squealed, tackling his father—who couldn't keep the smile off his face—into a hug. 

   "Yeah, yeah," Roger dishearteningly dismissed him. "Don't make me regret trusting you."

   "I promise!" he said, wasting no time as he practically leaped up the stairs. Roger shook his head, hiding a small, fond grin as he watched his son joyously skip up the steps. 

    "Yeah, okay, Mom... Yeah, I'll tell him," Ethan rambled on the phone, shooting Vincent an exasperated look to which he stifled a laugh. "Okay, okay... I won't forget. I promise... Jesus Christ, Mom. Why don't you just adopt him?... I'm hanging up now." 

   He tossed the device on the bed, turning to Vincent with slumped, shoulders. "Mom wants you to know she misses you," he grumbled. 

   Vincent laughed, getting close enough to pinch Ethan's cheeks. "Aw, is somebody jealous?"

   Ethan took hold of Vincent's fingers on his face and laced his own through them, pulling him forward until their noses were touching. "It's not a joke anymore, Van Gogh. I seriously think she likes you better than me."

   Vincent hummed appreciatively at the nickname, the sound vibrating through Ethan's bones. "You haven't called me that in a while," he remarked cheekily.

    Ethan smirked. "Oh yeah? You like it?" 

   Vincent nodded, closing what remained of the distance between them and capturing his lover's lips in a gentle kiss. Ethan pulled back with a lazy smile, hands rubbing the other's waist. "By the way, you can stay. But we gotta keep the door open otherwise he'll go berserk."

   The jock chuckled, "You know what? I'll take it."

   "Aw, cute. You thought you had a choice."

   Ethan rolled his eyes, struggling to suppress a yawn. Vincent raised an eyebrow. "What? You're tired already?"

   "Oh, give me a fucking break. I need to be up by seven tomorrow," he complained, eyelids already drooping as his fatigue weighed them down.

   "You know, for a quarterback, you don't seem to enjoy it that much," Vincent commented, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of Ethan's neck. 

   Ethan heaved a lengthy sigh. "It's not that I don't enjoy it, but I just think it's pointless. It's not like I'm gonna have anything to do with it after high school."

   Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Then why bother?"

   Ethan shrugged, avoiding the other's eyes. "I mean, it's pretty alright. The winning feels nice, the guys on the team are basically my fucking family, and—as much as I hate to admit it—it has some decent perks. You know, popularity and whatever."

   The boy hummed comprehensively, looking up at his boyfriend with an adoring smile. He leaned forward to kiss him, long and hard and passionate, tongue diving into his mouth. When Vincent pulled back, Ethan was dazed and confused and dizzy, lips tingling and adrenaline coursing through his veins. Not that he was objecting, but, "What was that for?"

   "Nothing," Vincent lilted. "I just forget how much I like you sometimes."

   Ethan felt heat crawling up his neck, his embarrassment at being caught blushing only worsening the redness of his cheeks. "Seriously, you're being almost too sweet tonight. What's the deal?"

   Vincent rolled his eyes. "There goes me being nice to you ever again. Now shut up and get ready for bed." 

   Ethan laughed, not really taking offense as he walked into the bathroom. After performing their nightly routines and making out for a solid half hour, they curled up under the blankets, tangled up in each other. It was almost magical: the feeling. As soon as Ethan's arms wrapped around Vincent's neck and the latter tucked his head into Ethan's neck, the two boys were overcome by a strange sense of peace. Easily, they both drifted into a deep sleep, the best they'd had in years. The serenity and calmness made them both want to lie in each other's arms for the rest of eternity.   

   However, it's only natural that all things good must come to an end.  

   Vincent's phone lit up with a text.